


Regen

by TheHoardingPuffin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Rain, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 17:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21001724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHoardingPuffin/pseuds/TheHoardingPuffin
Summary: Rain is something Caleb Widogast is used to. He doesn't mind it. He also doesn't mind that getting in the rain usually leads to getting hot tea and a good bit of snuggling from Caduceus.





	Regen

**Author's Note:**

> My first Critical Role Fanfiction. CR is definitely my biggest fandom next to Star Wars, I even cosplay from it, but I have never gotten any good fanfic ideas. Well... today's the day, I guess. It has been raining so much lately, so I just wrote about that. Mighty Nein and Rain. Also, I had such a hard time deciding whether I would make this Essek/Caleb, Molly/Caleb or Caduceus/Caleb, so I rolled a die.   
Yep. That's how I handle decision problems, apparently.  
I hope you like this. 
> 
> Love from the "Zemnian" Lotta

It is not a great day. It is cold and grey outside, the wind is blowing and it’s raining. It’s raining _wie aus Kübeln_ – as if someone was emptying gigantic buckets of water over the earth. Caleb, of course, is used to this kind of weather. In a way at least. Back in the Zemni Fields, where he grew up, this is how the winters looked. Rain, wind, sometimes snow too, but less of it in the past few years. It has gotten too warm even in winter for proper snow.

Here, in the Empire, this is the autumn weather instead, but still. The point is, Caleb knows this type of weather, is used to it, so it doesn’t bother him much. It never has. He has no way of changing it, so why bother getting upset about it?

It bothers some of his friends though, especially Jester. Every other day she threatens passionately that, should she ever meet the deity that invented rain, she would kill them and make sure that all rain gets purged from existence. And every time she ignores Caleb saying that without rain, nothing could grow or thrive, and then how would she get all the sweet fruit she likes in her pastries so much?

Nott hates the rain, too, as she hates all kinds of water. Rain isn’t as bad as swimming pools or ponds or the sea. She just gets a huge grey rain jacket that she could easily fit into twice, ties a knot at the ends of both sleeves and basically uses the jacket as a portable rain-tent.

It also bothers Mollymauk, though he takes it better than Jester, who has grown up by the sea in warm sunny Nicodranas. He usually only complains that the rain ruins his carefully crafted curls and his make-up. Caleb is not sure if this really bothers him or if it is a joke entirely. He decided a while ago he wouldn’t ask. He just imagines it is a fifty-fifty situation. Half true, half joke. It is often like that with Mollymauk, he either only means half of what he says or he means something else than what he says. It’s something one has to get used to.

And finally, Caduceus. He is usually one to get excited about whatever nature has to offer, be it plants or fungus or underground rivers or rainbows… anything really. Nature, the wild, can get the tall Firbolg into a state of excitement that is remarkable, considering his usual calm character. But rain… rain is not something that gets Caduceus excited. He likes it when he’s not in it, but since he can’t lock himself in his room every time it rains, he has to get into the rain every so often, and when he comes home and is drenched, and his grey fur falls into his eyes and the pink hair has turned into a mess if wet tangles, he is the exact opposite of happy…

All this wanders through Caleb’s mind as he makes his way home from the bookshop he works at. It had taken a while for him to get the confidence to apply for the job, even though bookstores are his happy place… but he is glad he now got the place. It is a nice store, for sure… the only problem is that it is far away from the flat he shares with Caduceus, and there is no tram or bus or train he could take to get home faster.

It would be a shorter way from the store to Jester’s or Nott’s home, but Nott’s little boy, Luc, is sick at the moment, so Caleb doesn’t want to bother the Brenattos, and he is not up for putting up with Jester today. He absolutely adores Jester, of course, as he adores all of his friends, but Jester is sometimes a bit much for him to handle. That’s all.

And so, he walks home in the rain, a new book securely under his coat so that it doesn’t get wet, his grey scarf pulled up over his mouth and nose because the wind is actually quite cold, especially for October…

Musing about his friends and their different opinions on the rainy weather keeps Caleb distracted enough that he does not find any time to be annoyed about said weather himself, or to get worried about getting sick. His feet find the way home on their own, he no longer has to concentrate on it – once he has walked a certain way a few times, he can remember forever how it goes – and so he gets home relatively content and in a better mood than he would have been had he let himself think about getting wet and catching a cold.

Frumpkin sits in front of the door when Caleb arrives there, soaking wet and looking quite unhappy about it. Usually, the familiar likes to stay inside anyways, but this morning, he followed Caleb outside, and he had no way of getting back in on his own, as it seems.

“_Hallo, Kleiner_”, Caleb says and picks Frumpkin up to put him on his shoulder. Then, he unlocks the door and rings the doorbell to alert Caduceus.

When he gets to their flat on the third floor, Caduceus has already opened the door and waits for him.

“I had hoped you’d get on your way before the rain got really bad”, he says casually and hands Caleb a towel. Caleb dries his hair as well as he can with it, then shrugs out of his coat and scarf and hangs them on the door to dry. His trousers have gotten wet as well, they stick to his legs uncomfortably. His shirt and the book have remained dry, thankfully.

“I’ll make tea”, Caduceus says. “How about you get changed and join me then?”

It’s not an order, technically, but Caleb is too happy to follow the suggestion anyways. Even though he doesn’t mind the rain much, he liked being dry and warm over being soaked and cold much more.

Only a few minutes later he sits on the sofa in their small, plant-crowded living room, wearing dry and comfortable clothes and a mug with steaming hot tea in his hands.

Caduceus feeds Frumpkin (the familiar _technically_ doesn’t need food that often, but they fill up his little bowl anyways) and the joins him. As always, the firbolg feels much warmer than Caleb does, so he leans himself against him, drawing his knees close to his chest, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Rain is one thing I cannot understand”, Caduceus says softly, and he starts brushing his fingers through Caleb’s damp hair. “I mean, yeah, it’s important for the wildlife, but still…

“It’s not that bad”, Caleb says and takes a sip of his tea. It must be a new leaf that Caduceus is trying out, because the taste is new to him.

“What is this?”, he asks. Caduceus answers with a botanical name, and then adds: “Woodruff. It grew on the grave of that girl… the one with the pot of orange nasturtium next to it.”

Caleb has no idea which grave that is – he doesn’t know the Clay cemetery well enough – but he nods and takes another sip. The tea has an unusually greenish colour, but it tastes good. That’s all Caleb needs to know.

"How do you say woodruff in Zemnian?", Caduceus asks and reaches over to the other side of the sofa to get their striped blanket.

"_Waldmeister_", Caleb says.

"Wald-mei-ster", Caduceus repeats slowly. Caleb nods and offers a small smile that says _Well done_.

This is a thing they have started doing a while ago. Caduceus asks him about the zemnian name for a plant, Caleb tells him, Caduceus repeats it, even though he will probably forget it again soo. It's just become a habit.

Caduceus repeats the word again and wraps one arm around Caleb, who all too willingly rests his head on Caduceus’ chest.

“This is nice”, Caduceus says quietly and probably to himself. Caleb nods anyways.

Because it is true – this _is_ nice.

It is cold and grey outside, the wind is blowing and it’s raining. It’s raining _wie aus Kübeln_ – as if someone was emptying gigantic buckets of water over the earth. Caleb is used to this kind of weather, and he doesn’t mind it – but being here, in the warmth of his home, curling up with his partner… that’s much better, truly.

**Author's Note:**

> German Translations: 
> 
> Es regnet wie aus Kübeln: Literally "It is raining like out of buckets" - english equivalents: "It's raining cats and dogs", a saying about rain
> 
> Regen: Rain
> 
> "Hallo, Kleiner": "Hello, little one."
> 
> Waldmeister: Literally "Master of the Woods", woodruff


End file.
